Learning Na'vi

16

Tu'sky pulled Quaritch to a secluded location in the forest. Puffball trees and other plants filled the area; light poring in through parted leafs. In the background, the Pa'li were there. The alien horses drank from plants, the sap clinging to their snouts. He watched interested. "Hey, the . . . Direhorse," he stated.

"Pa'li," Tu'sky stated. She walked up to the alien horses, clicking her tongue. One Pa'li glanced up, sap drooling off its mouth. The female Na'vi held up her hand, stroking the nose. "Pa'li. Pa'li."

"Pa'li," Quaritch stated, trying the name on his tongue.

Tu'sky smiled, stroking the beast's snout. "Yes," she said.

"So, you ride these things?"

"Yes, with this."

She grabbed her braid, and took the end of the braid, pushing back the hair. Little fibers that were inside of her hair, and they moved like they had a mind of their own. Quaritch watched, a little disturbed, and his upper lip twitched. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

"Tsahaylu," she answered. "It way we connect to animals and Eywa." She reached her braid into the creature's connection, and the alien horse whimpered in surprise, then it calmed down. Tu'sky got up on the creature, straddling it. "I control animal with mind."

Quaritch reached out, touching the large alien horses back leg. "Really?" he asked, interested.

"Yes," she said. Then the Pa'li walked out, slowly, and moved. "See?"

The clone nodded. "Huh," he stated.

Tu'sky jumped down, taking out her braid, and the alien horse galloped away. She reached down, grabbing the clone's tiny (well, to her tiny) hands and pulled him down to the ground. "Now, learn Na'vi," she stated, beaming like the sun.

"Alright," Quaritch grumbled, sitting down on the warm grass.

She placed her hands to his chest. "You: aynga," she breathed.

"Agyna?"

"Aynga."

"Aynga."

Tu'sky nodded, smiling widely. "Good," she said. "Now, irayo—thank you," she said.

"Irayo."

Tu'sky warmly smiled. "Good, good," she stated. "You talk well."

Selfridge glanced over his papers, signing on the line. He rubbed his temples, reading his paperwork. There was a silent knock on the door, and the business man glanced up. "Come in," he called, scratching on the line of one of his papers.

A young female soldier poked her head through the creaking door. Her big green eyes were sheepish, but she moved further into the office, her right hand still on the door. "Um, sir, I wish to talk to you," she stated, closing the door.

Selfridge glanced up from his papers, curious. "Yeah, what is it?" he asked, placing the pen down on his desk.

"Um, I was doing inventory with the grenades and guns, and some are missing."

The rich man looked hard at her, leaning back into his chair. "What do you mean?" he inquired.

She motioned to the door. "Come with me."

Selfridge was tapping his foot in irritation. He looked at all the serial numbers of each gun, and the guns that had been taken had not been properly checked out. The female soldier looked at her boss. "See, sir," she said. "There is no record of those guns being checked out, and the same with the grenades."

She flipped to a different check-out list, and those grenades that have been taken were not checked out. He looked at the numbers she had given him, and scowled. "Who do you think took them?" he demanded.

"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully. "And Colonel Quaritch has left Samantha in control of the troops a lot."

"What?"

"Samantha says that Colonel Quaritch has been leaving in his troops in her control while he goes off into the forest," explained the female. "He doesn't come back for hours."

Selfridge crossed his arms over his chest, his foot tapping faster on the hard floor. "Great, just great," he grumbled to himself. He turned to the soldier next to him. "Thank you."

She nodded, saluted, and then scurried off. The business man tapped his fingernail to his teeth in thought. Quaritch . . . What the hell was he doing? He better not be aiding the Na'vi. Oh no. Since Dr. Wolfe had proven that his personality was different than that of the original Quaritch, instead of showing indifference to the Na'vi, he showed interest in them. He was probably going to the village, socializing with them and befriending them like he feared. That was why Selfridge ordered the troops a few days from now to randomly attack the village. Did Quaritch know? Nope. Not at all. Just then, a male soldier walked by the business man. Selfridge latched out his hand to his shoulder, grabbing the man. The soldier was startled only slightly.

"Oh, sir, what do you need?" he breathed.

Selfridge wrapped his arm around the man's shoulder. "Walk with me," he stated, smugly smiling. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Yes . . . sir?"

"Quaritch, he's been acting odd," Selfridge began, "I want to know what the matter is. I would like it if you were to spy on him."

"Spy on Colonel Quaritch, sir?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, it's not that hard," he stated. "Very easy—actually. Just watch him all day for the next week and report to me every day. I'll raise your pay check if you do so. You start tomorrow. Deal?" He outstretched his hand.

The man was eager to agree. "Deal, sir," he exclaimed.

Rajian could not help but to overhear. He was chatting with a pretty female when he heard it. He glanced over at the business man, startled. Selfridge and the Indian man shared an intense stare before the rich man left hurriedly. Rajian had to warn his friend. On the other hand, Selfridge hoped that he did not hear a damn thing.

Tu'sky held out her bow. Quaritch looked at the wooden weapon, groping for the word in Na'vi. "Um, tsko," he stated.

She nodded. Quaritch was determined to learn Tu'sky's native tongue, like she was all too eager to learn how the human weapons worked. He ended up showing her how they worked, but was unnerved by her actions. The Na'vi placed her bow down, smiling. She reached over, grabbing her arrows. The Na'vi displayed her arrow. The clone looked at it, deeply thinking. "Swizaw," he answered, smirking at his minor victory.

Tu'sky smirked at him. "You learn fast," she stated, placing her arrow down. "Now more difficult." She outstretched her arm, patting it.

Quaritch looked the limb, his mind pulling a blank. "Uh . . ." He paused, and then held out his hand. "Let me talk. It is . . ."

"Pxun," Tu'sky stated, a snarl in her throat.

Tu'sky was different than Neytiri, Quaritch realized. Even though Tu'sky could be playful, she could always turn around to be very stern (but not as stern as Neytiri was at times). And she was in what Norm liked to call, her "teacher-mode." Tu'sky would turn into a completely different person when she was in "teacher-mode." To Quaritch, her mood came off like this: "I'm teaching here, so shut the hell up and learn. Your opinion means jack-shit to me, and don't complain. Don't make me hit you." He had already recieved three hits on the head from her. Tu'sky would also become irritated, which she was right now. Quaritch now was kind of wishing that Neytiri would teach him. She seemed to much nicer when she taught (but then again, Jake had told him when she was teaching him Na'vi, she hit him too. Maybe the women just like to hit men).

"Knew that."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes, and reached behind, grabbing her tail. "This?"

He rubbed his neck. Na'vi was a pain in the ass to learn. "Err, kllte," he stated.

"That's 'ground,'" the Na'vi female stated.

"It starts with a damn K, I know that," he defended, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Kxetse," hissed Tu'sky. Her hand went to her ear. "And this?" she asked.

"Mikyun."

"Good."

The Na'vi pointed to her elbow. Quaritch slouched forward, his eyes hard on the female Na'vi. "Pxuntil," he stated, biting his tongue.

"You learn well."

Quaritch smirked, leaning back, resting his hands on the soft grass. Tu'sky then pointed to her lips. Boy, I like to touch those lips and feel them on me, the clone thought. "Um, seyri," he stated.

"Good, Miles," she stated. Her hands then moved to his chest, resting them over his beating heart. "And you? Person?"

"Tute," he stated, smirking at the feel of her hands on him. She has very warm hands.

Tu'sky smiled, proud at herself for being able to teach a Sky Person Na'vi. "Good, good," she said.

There was a rustle of leave and branches. Norm then pushed through the bushes, looking at the duo. He forced a calm smile, but his heart was burning. "Hey, Tu'sky." He did not even greet Quaritch.

"NormSpellman," Tu'sky stated, a broad smile on her face. She patted the space next to her. "Come sit."

Norm complied, sitting right next to her. Quaritch glared at the male Na'vi, his fingernails gripping his kneecaps.

"Miles learn much," Tu'sky stated to Norm, beaming like normal herself. Her irritation melted away.

"Really?" Norm inquired. "So he's not a moron," he muttered in Na'vi.

Quaritch glared deeply at the Na'vi in front of him. "Don't call me a moron," he growled.

Norm seemed surprised that the clone knew what he had said. The clone smirked, leaning on his elbow. "Yeah, that's right, I know what skxawng means," he growled.

Norm looked right at his sister-figure. She smiled sheepishly. "I thought it necessary," she stated, her tail twitched, and she shyly looked away. She turned to Quaritch. "Good for today, you may leave."

"Oh thank God," he groaned, quickly standing up. "My hell is done."

Tu'sky laughed gently, slapping his knee. "Yes, you done," she stated, standing up.

Norm and Quaritch glared at each other over Tu'sky's head, but both smiled when she lifted up her head. The female left the men alone, looking for her little brother. Norm towered over the clone, crossing his arms over his chest. Quaritch scoffed. "You don't scare me, just 'cause you're taller," he stated, placing his hands to his hips.

Norm turned away, walking forward.

"Hey, get your big blue ass over here!"

When Norm did not reply, the clone jumped him. The taller being let out a surprised yelp, which sounded very girly, hit the ground. Quaritch straddled Norm's stomach, and twisted his nipples. "That hurts!" the Na'vi grimaced.

Quaritch did, smirking at the Na'vi under him. "She's mine," he stated, standing up.

Norm's hands went to his nipples, and whimpered. He whined, his tail around his feet. Quaritch went to the village. He knew he was acting like an idiot over a woman, but hell, there were two reasons why he was acting stupid:

One: he liked Tu'sky.

Two: he did not want Norm to place odd ideas into her head about him.

He would have to win her over in a different way. She liked that he was learning more about their culture. Well, then he would just have to learn more about their culture. Who should he ask? Those he knew: Jake, Neytiri, or Mo'at. He watched as his love interest bend before her brother, and spoke something in Na'vi to him, and he returned it. What did that mean? Neytiri was crouching near a fire, throwing some sticks into it. She glanced up, surprised to see him.

"O-oh, MilesQuaritch," she stated. "What you need?"

He pointed to Tu'sky and Ma'ki. "She said something to him," Quaritch stated. "What did she say?"

"Oh," Neytiri stated. She kneeled before the clone. "We say oel ngati kamie."

"What does that mean?"

"I see you," she stated. "I see you."

Quaritch looked at her oddly. "What the hell does that mean?" he asked. "It sounds like something a stalker would say." He paused, holding out his hands out in a claw-like position. "I see you."

Neytiri lightly chuckled at his humor. She could understand that—Jake made the same comment. She rested her hands on his shoulders. "No, no, what 'I see you' mean is that I see you as a person," she stated. "I see soul. When a person says that, it mean that they see soul. They see true you. Only family, friends and mates say that. It is very highly viewed—like you Sky People say 'I love you.' We say that too, but most oel ngati kamie." She paused, looking at the smaller being. "Understand?"

Quaritch nodded slowly. "So, oel ngati kamie is like 'I love you,' but greater," he said. "It means you see their spirit in their body. You see the true person from the inside."

Neytiri smiled. "Yes, good," she stated. "You learn fast."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess I'm more open-minded," he whispered, rubbing his neck.

She looked at him. She truly liked this Quaritch. He was more open to the Na'vi culture and way of life. He even wanted to learn the language (well, Jake thought it was best that he would learn so he could communicate with those who did not know English). But he did not fight it. Quaritch stood up. "I've got to split," he stated.

Neytiri looked at the clone. "Split?" she inquired.

"Um, I've got to go," the clone corrected. "Tell Tu'sky and Ma'ki I said . . ." He paused. "Correct me if I am wrong, but kìyevame."

Neytiri smiled, placing her hands on his strong shoulders. "Perfect," she stated. "Kìyevame."

"Kìyevame."

Quaritch raced back to his AMP, and went back to Hell's Gate. The moment he entered his weight room, Rajian was right there. He looked panicked. The clone looked at his friend oddly. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, closing the door.

"Stay away from the Na'vi."

"Why?"

"Selfridge is sending a spy to watch you for the next week."

Quaritch's heart leapt into his throat. He glared at the thought of having Selfridge sending a spy to watch him. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, really?" he growled. "Well, I guess I have to talk to Selfridge."

Rajian ran to the door, thrusting his body against it. "No, this won't solve anything," he stated firmly, but in a whisper.

Quaritch looked pointedly at his friend. "Rajian, move," he stated.

"No, just stay away from the Na'vi, please," Rajian begged.

Quaritch snorted, glaring at his friend. He did not want to, but he had to. The clone moved around like a caged tiger in the room. He snarled, and kicked over a metal stool. It clattered against the floor, and bounced over to a wall. Quaritch moved to his weight bench, and began to pump his arms with the heavy weights. Rajian sighed.

"Please, just stay away from the Na'vi. We don't need another war."

Quaritch did not reply, his face straight. He could not see Tu'sky for the next week. This was crap. Rajian sighed, walking out of the room, leaving his friend to himself. The clone placed the weights on their hooks, and sat up, sighing, rubbing at his tense neck.

Shit.